


The Warden's Guide To Atropus

by CallMeChrisOrCallMeAustin



Series: The Graceworth Archive [1]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Other
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-24
Updated: 2020-11-24
Packaged: 2021-03-09 22:14:49
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,225
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27693278
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CallMeChrisOrCallMeAustin/pseuds/CallMeChrisOrCallMeAustin
Summary: Man stuck on planet oh no. Also i suck at writing.
Series: The Graceworth Archive [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2025245
Kudos: 1





	1. Chapter 1

Cycle 1, 3 days in the Unknown

Hello, reader, if you are reading this, you are most likely stranded here. My name is Caleb Graceworth, and I know not where I am. I am writing my thoughts in this journal, in the unlikely event that someone were to find it here, perhaps it would be of use to them. There are no nights or days here, wherever here is, I sleep whenever I feel tired. Nothing grows on this planet, I have used up the last drops of my waterskin today and I need food. I don’t know how much longer it will be till I find something that lives. There are no wildlife here. Just barren land upon more, and more barren land. The soil is coarse and rough when I feel it, but it feels soft underneath my boots. This place is extremely strange. I think this might be hell.

Cycle 1, 5 days in the Unknown 

I felt a great shock go through the soil today. I went to investigate. Still no sign of wildlife. I found a camp, there was something written in a language I couldn't understand, but it felt dark , very dark. I scavenged the long wires that ran between posts, as if this was a prison of some sort. It hadn’t occurred to me where it could have come from, but I did not find it important for my mind to wander, as I found a long cloak of a thick fabric on one of the barred containers. There was a camera in one of the desks, which was most intriguing how it had gotten there. I walked away from the structure, carrying my hoard away. I have still not found food , and I fear I will die of thirst in the following nights.

Cycle 1, 8 days in the Unknown

I have found water. I believe it to be water, for though it was dark and murky, it still carried that infected water stench. I did not have a choice, but oh if I could have avoided it, I would. It felt like fire infused with thick molasses clogging my throat, choking me, and I felt oh so terrible. It made me recount my memories of home and I began to feel extremely homesick and dreadful. I threw up 3 minutes later, but no food was to be ejected, only black filth. I did not want to die of dehydration, so I drank it again, I managed not to vomit the second time but still felt terrible. My water problem had been solved, but I still needed food. I figure I have walked 14 miles from where I had begun. 

Cycle 1, 9 days in the Unknown 

Today I saw the wildlife in this place. It flew a great height in the sky, its wings massive and insect-like, like a moth’s. It’s hooked legs were tucked underneath its scally lack body, with two eyes popping out at the front of its head like great big orbs. I continued to document it, pulling out the camera I had found at the camp and capturing it as best as I could.

Phantoms?

Docile? 

Wingspan looks around 10 feet. 

Found near giant rock, 4 kilometers away from the lake.

I walked on, my stomach protesting against the act as I trudged on through the barren land. The loneliness hit me in pangs, just like my hunger, wearing me down like metal on metal. I do not think this is hell anymore, but it still makes it feel as if this loneliness was a punishment and curse. I will go to sleep now, the creature has kept going in the same direction as I. 

Cycle 1, 11

I have grown weak in my starvation, the pain firing off in every nerve of my body. My arms and legs ache from all this. After I could take no more, I took the wire I had obtained at the abandoned camp from its safe home and wrapped a good portion around my smallest finger. I tightened and tightened it, till the blood rushed out of it and it went white. The fiery spears of the pain was only so bearable , till the wire had cleanly separated the finger from the hand. I placed the bleeding finger up to my cloth, letting the linen go damp and the smell of rusted metal came up in my nose. I picked up the finger I had severed , and forgive me, for I had no choice, I ripped the flesh off of it and ate it ravenously till only the finger bone and cartilage remained. I cried after my meager meal.

Cycle 1, 12

I heard a reaching cry as my feet passed along the oh so familiar gray gravel. I looked behind to see it. One of Satan’s demons surely. It was long and black, like freshly boiled tar, except it looked so much like a human yet was so far from it. It’s legs were long and lean, its knees bent backwards like a devilish goat. It’s torso was large and every breadth and length of it made it look all the more menacing. It’s arms were skinny, like a vulture’s leg and ended in sharp curving daggers. It was hard to tell, but it looked like twice the size of the ordinary man and could have towered over a pew. A large eye, one the size of my entire hand, rested in the middle of its face, only an orange pupil shown in an entirely blackened eye. Long bone like spines extended out of its hunchback, like a pair of venomous spikes. It was less than league behind, and it did not look unrelenting in its chase. It’s gaze taunted me, and it knew it was the superior creature. I stopped.

I took the wire I had, tying it up like one would a rod, with my blooded hands until it was a inch thick and a foot long. I unraveled the cloth I had used for storage and found suitable use for it in extra protection. Satisfied with personal tools, I used the remaining cloth and gathered the largest rock amongst the soil I could find. Finally it had approached within twenty skips away from me. 

Then something horrific happened. It spoke.

It’s bottom jaws unhinged like a flower, the two flaps of black skin and bony armor peeling away to reveal an infinite row of teeth, and three probing , wriggling tentacles with suckers at the end, needles poking out like a venus flytrap. 

“You. You are alone.”

I was taken aback.

“You will die alone. Tasty.”

Finally, my voice came to my throat and I hoarsely yelled back to the demon,

“Shame! Look upon yourself with shame, Satan’s creature- Rid thyself of my presence! No beast like you hath a soul, nor could ever hope to, have a soul that has been created as pure and beautiful as mine!”

It laughed, it’s eye lolling in its socket as its tongues waved around and felt the air.

“You are not in control, old man. Your god means nothing here. You will die in sin.”

“And you will have died for naught!” I yelled back and charged towards it. It froze. Whether it was shocked or surprised at my response I did not know, but I charged and leaned to plunge my rod into its hard armored skin. It was not until I had come within arms reach that it reacted. It lunged forward, pulling both of its arms to grab , and hack, and tear me to pieces. I ducked under its reach, barely making it as its speed was more than any ordinary man’s. I weakly poked it in where it’s ribs should be, but it merely knocked me aside with it’s massive hand and left me groaning on the ground, my bones surely broken. I rolled myself to the side as it nearly landed on my head with a loud thud, as it landed on the marbly soil. I grabbed at its armory plates and pulled with all the might that my body would give me. I felt its claws hit me in the abdomen, and felt it go under my skin. I screamed and it once again relished the sound. My hands frantically searched around me for something- Anything, but I feared, I would die in this position. My limp hand finally found a hard rock , and with all the remnants of my meager strength I smote it across the head with the rock, feeling it crumble into dust as the creature fell off my body. I ran over to where the rod had dropped and felt its eye on me as I ran, and heard the dust being kicked up as it chased me.

Rod in hand, I turned around to face it, and it leapt in the air, like a large cat jumping atop its prey and I stood as I thrust the rod up, and with a crack. The rod went through it’s eye and out the back of its head. It backed up, roaring in pain as it’s eye dissolved in its socket and its vision was lost to it. It limped around, calling for help weakly, like an animal. I spat,

“There will be no forgiveness for you.”

I unbundled a wire from my belt and bent it in a noose. I walked to it sprawled on the ground and pulled the rod out of its broken skull and it screamed as I did so, spasming before laying still, panting and still crying for whatever Satanic being to save it. I tied the wire around its neck and pulled it , and pulled it, towards a small boulder that seemed to have been dropped from the sky in the days of long past. It begged and tugged at its neck, its feelers weakly hovering over its molested face. I pulled til I could not pull till finally, I picked up a rock that was the size of my head and weakly lifted it with both hands, the wriggling creature still on the ground.

I smote it on the head. Once.

It yowled out, “Stop! Stop this torture!”

I smote it again, leaving a large depression in its skull, it went quiet, the only sound it’s shallow breathing.

I yelled into the voidless sky, into the surrounding land, at Satan himself and brought an end to the demonic creature. I stared at my handiwork and once again yelled into the heavens,

“Hark! Jesus! Moses! Abraham! I proclaim my dutiful prophets in this cursed land and I tell whatever foul creature that run amuck this ruin- I challenge thy demons! I challenge thy demons , Lucifer! I will survive and no matter how many devils you shall send to kill me, to break my spirit, to scald my skin! I will have the lord at my side and his sons, at my side, now and forever!”

And in a quiet voice, I murmured,

“May god forgive me.”

I gorged myself upon its body.

Cycle 1, 13

As soon as I had woken up, I leaned over to empty my bowels. The flesh of the monster had dealt no good or nutrition to my ill health. To the west, I see a castle, which chances only to be 3 or 4 leagues away. It stands in a grim, upright, manner , like an obelisk of doom. The top of it had been blown off by, what I could not imagine and hoped to never know. I could hope to arrive there by tomorrow’s midday. Before I rested for the day, I lingered on the fringes of my consciousness, and murmured a short prayer.

“I will say of the Lord: He is my refuge and my fortress. My God, in Him I will trust. I shall not be afraid of the terror in the night, nor the evil that walketh in darkness, because I have made the Lord my refuge. Because I have set my love upon Him, therefore will He deliver me. I shall call upon Him, and He will answer me. He will be with me in trouble. He will deliver me and honor me.”

The sleep finally came. Merciful, forgetful, sleep.

Cycle 1, 15

“Halt!”

I stopped about a stone’s toss from the ancient ruin. I shifted my head towards the voice, drawing the black stained rod. The ache in my chest was still deep , but at least it had stopped bleeding. The voice came from a spire that rose 20 feet in the air before stopping and providing a view of the land. The speaker was nowhere near as tall as the demon and not as mangled, and looked much more humanoid. They wore rusted chainmail that covered most of their body, with their entire body being made of the same black sludge. The rough voice called out again,

“Who approaches?”

“Caleb Graceworth.”

“Where are you from, Caleb Graceworth?”

“Ellis Island, I was immigrated from Ireland.”

“Why have you come here, to this estate, Graceworth?”

“Because.” I explained, swallowing the saliva in my throat and wiping the sweat off my brow.

“The devils in this hell have forced mine hand, and now I seek refuge. I had been forced to kill it, but my wounds are grievous and I fear I will be killed in my sleep.”

“You killed one?” The speaker questioned.

“Yes, sir.” I confirmed.

“A most impressive feat. I allow you safety.”

They nodded at me, before going down the spire. I took my cue and walked into the forlorn castle that once would have been a statue of elegance and honor.

End of Chapter 1

“Live in the present, learn from the past, and never fear the future, for it does not exist, and never will.”  
-The Warden


	2. Chapter 2

“In my youth, I thought that all horrible acts stemmed from the hatefulness of people. I came to realize, more often than not, that they are committed in love.”  
-The Warden

Cycle 1, 15

Streaked stone lay beneath my feet, a significant change from the grey soil I had trodden on. My footsteps echoed in the empty hall, amplifying the feeling of ruin that the palace had been left in. I stepped over an out of place stone, looking up into the ceiling where a crevice showed the second floor. Footsteps issued from the fissure and so I waited for the inhuman host to arrive. 

The picture was much more close up now, the grey chainmail glimmering in the grey light, the skin blackened and embalmed like the land, where eyes should have been were two hollow depressions. In their right hand a long halberd stood, poised for defense. Wielding the color of the devil’s skin, but holding themselves like one of god’s creations. The voice it talked in was rough, and under stretched, as if trying to use the least amount of syllables as possible. 

“Stop, Graceworth, discard your wards.”

I knelt, dropping the dark rod on the cracked floor. It precariously stepped forward to examine the rod, before pocketing it at its belt and speaking again.

“You killed it with this?”

“Yes, it was a much tedious effort.”

“Indeed, you would have gotten nowhere hacking at its armor with this for the hour. Say, how did you do it?”

“It had leapt upon me at which I had thrusted through its skull.”

“And the beast was slain?”

I doubled back a little.  
“Well- No good sir, it still had life in it. I smited it with a heavy stone as it lay flailing upon the ground.”

It looked with apprehension in its eyeless gaze but broke away not soon thereafter, turning to the winding corridor.   
“Walk with me, why don’t you.”

We walked down the twisting hallways and ruined rooms, navigating through the large estate. We talked while we walked, much to my chagrin as I had to limp along behind him, the wounds on my chest making it difficult to heave my breath.

“How did one like you find themselves banished to this plane of misery?”, It asked , turning a sharp cornered wall.

“It is quite a long story, good sir.”

“Time is at our disposal at the moment, so go as into depth as you like.”

We came into what might have been a fine kitchen, but any evidence of this was washed away by broken wood and stone sprayed across the ground. It sat down cross legged on a particularly large slab that had fallen out of the ceiling. I sat across from it on an oaken chair that had one of its legs broken.

“Well sir, I came aboard one of the immigration ships, for America.”

“America?”

“It is a country , in the far west where the grass remains green and opportunity is plentiful.” I explained. I continued on. And as I did, I started to think of what had happened and started to reminisce about what would have happened had I ever reach America.

1939, Trans-Atlantic Route

The sound of water sloshing across the waves filled all the ears of the ship, as the boat threaded through the choppy waters. The sky was grey and cloudy, a light mist in the ear. Most of the passengers rested on the bottom deck, filled with sleepy people on straw mattresses, dreaming about what their destination would be like once they would reach the new land. 

Caleb finished leaning over the side of the ship. He had been affected by the journey heavily, one of the dire effects being constant sea sickness. Few other men and women emptied their stomachs into the frothing ocean, a few lolling about on the top of the wet deck. Caleb drank from the small wooden cup, a breath of fresh water streaming down his throat, despite how pitiful the volume of it.

A bang sounded up in the sky. It was not only Caleb who looked up towards the grey streaked sky. The buzzing of planes caught everyone’s attention as the green dot streaked across the sky. Something black dropped from it, plunging into the sea before an orange fiery cloud appeared under the water, shaking the large naval ship. Everyone rushed to the lower deck, a horde of screaming and fighting bodies piling over the other. Caleb ran to the corner of the ship , searching for his family in the crowd of immigrants. Finally, he found his wife , hugging her to his body as they were pushed and shoved, 

The ship shaked again and water started to leak in through the sides. Screams of terrors filled the dark lower deck as salty water dogged their feet and soaked into their sandals. Caleb hoped that his brother and daughter on the other ship hadn’t been attacked in a similar manner. He hugged his wife tightly to his chest as they both wept , knowing this was the last moment of their lives. 

A black oval crashed through the roof of the lower deck and the world seemed to freeze before him. He watched the orange cloud engulf the crowd and even watched it engulf his wife’s body until he wished he would watch no more and begged for the fire to kill him, to take him to heaven with his family!

The people around him, turned to ashes.


End file.
